A Masterpiece Unraveled (The Masterpiece Trilogy Book 2) (4 page)

He swore. "I'm sorry."

She didn't need his pity, either. Becca broke the physical contact, busying herself with the menu once again. If she picked something now, she could just point it out to Hunter so he could order it for her. She debated on ducking out to go to the bathroom in hopes of avoiding the pity stares, but it wouldn't solve anything. She wasn't going to hide away again. She wasn't going to be that helpless child with doubts and fears in her head, hiding the real pain because people didn't understand.

Becca had come too far to become that frightened girl again, no matter what was happening with her now.
Hiding was out of the question.

Who am I kidding? It's already getting to me, and I keep hiding!

She tried to find something appealing to eat. Her vision wasn't in focus and she blinked, fighting the tears of frustration. This vulnerability right now sucked. Hunter's earlier words about not always having to be strong rang loud and clear in her mind and while she knew he was right, for some reason she still held on. Once something was set in your mind for so long, sometimes old habits were hard to break. Becca needed to regain her emotional strength before she lost it completely. If she let herself really let out her feelings, there was no telling how it would turn out.

Raising a hand to brush her hair back, Becca noticed right away how sweaty her hands were. They were almost drenched! Then it dawned on her how overwhelmingly hot it seemed in here.

"Hey, are you okay?" Hunter's hand was cool as he reached over to touch her.

Becca gasped. She couldn't breathe! Whatever this was, it was sudden, scary and made her feel out of control.

In a flash, Hunter moved to sit next to her. Becca couldn't stay focused. She heard him talking, but she couldn't make out most of what he said. Her head hurt and her heart pounded in quick, rapid beats. She thought she could hear it echo in her head.
Thump thump thump.
What was happening to her? The room brightened and her mind spun. Round and round everything went, like a fast moving merry-go-round.

Something was thrust in front of her. She could still make out Hunter's voice. He was right beside her, but he sounded so far away. She felt as if she were choking on air. Colors filled her vision like a kaleidescope. She was well aware of the chaos around her and the voices. As fast as the feeling came, it left just as quick. Her breathing returned to normal. It was as if she'd been thrown in a sauna, or a pot of boiling water! She shuddered, snapped back to attention and instinctively moved away from Hunter. It was too hot. She had this overwhelming sensation like she was suffocating, and he was so close.

Becca noticed all the curious faces. Everyone was watching her, pointing and whispering. The waitress who'd looked at her with such pity earlier was also nearby, keeping her gaze settled on her.

"Bec, what just happened?" Hunter's voice was full of worry. "Here, why not take a sip or two?" Her requested drink was pushed in front of her and she sucked from the straw hesitantly. The cool, bitter liquid was just what she needed. The air around her seemed to cool down finally, but she knew it wasn't the air. It was her.

Her fingers were still damp from sweat.
"I think I just had a panic attack."
When she put her hands back on the table, Hunter's eyes went wide.

"I've never seen you do that."

Hunter had never seen a lot of her darker days, right after the accident. They weren't something she liked to bring up.

"I'll be okay. I just want to get some food in me."
She brushed it off as if it were nothing. But inside, she was as shaken as a leaf on a tree in a windstorm. Was it the sudden memories of days she didn't want to remember that sent her into that fit? Did it really have to happen in front of Hunter and a hundred other spectators in the restaurant? Was it just her paranoia, or did the waitress seem very hesitant to come back to their table?

I'm losing it. What's happening?

Chapter Three

A panic attack.
Becca had a panic attack. Could things get any worse? Hunter was at a loss for what to do. Becca, being her typical self, put on a brave face. She wasn't fooling him. Little by little, she was falling apart and she didn't want anyone, including him, to know it. Did he push too much? Should he have left things alone and stayed home with her instead of trying to take her out? Or did he need to push more to get her out of that shell before the walls crumbled on her even more?

He had no answers and didn't like it.

They were home now. Hunter sighed in relief as they walked inside. He closed the door, keeping them safe from the outside world. But they weren't safe from themselves or each other. He reached out to take Becca's hand, hoping to get her to sit with him before she tried to seclude herself. She let out a gasp, but turned to face him. Her skin was still moist from sweat. Her long hair hung in damp, stringy clumps down her back. He looked her over, from her thin, pale complexion to the still dark bruise on her arm from a few weeks ago when he'd lost his mind, blending his nightmare and reality. That bruise was a painful reminder that he needed to face his demons, no matter what the doctors said was wrong with him. He never, ever wanted to lose it like that again. Even though it was an accident and he didn't even remember pinning her against the wall in a nightmare induced craze, it never should have happened.

"Was this the first panic attack you've had since ... that night?" he asked quietly. Why did he have to hesitate and find the right words to describe that night instead of just saying it? The night everything went to hell!

Becca nodded, her gaze never leaving his face. Dark circles had found their way under her eyes.

"You've had them before, when you were younger."

Another slow nod. She stepped back, forcing him to let her go.
"I haven't had once since I was a young teenager. I don't like you or anyone else seeing it. I never wanted you to know that side of me. I'd forgotten how horrible they were."

"I knew about them, Bec. Your aunt used to fill me in. She learned not to hold anything back with me when it came to you. I know all about those days. Why do you think I learned so much about traumatic brain injury?"

"You knew?"
She shook her head, eyes wide. She appeared very upset over the fact.
"You never told me that."

"I never had a reason to. It's not who you are as a person. I always wanted to be up to date with how you were. I never trusted your grandparents from the start. I was with you the first time they arrived. It was a few days before I finally had to leave the hospital. I never noticed a warm acceptance and I had the worst feeling about them. I chalked it up to me being protective since we were alone in the unknown and it became my natural instinct, but something about them rubbed me the wrong way." He'd hoped for better for the little girl he'd attached himself to. At first, Hunter had been a little envious that she had family to go to. Looking back, he wondered if Becca would have been better off elsewhere. Not that it mattered now. "I learned everything I could when I overheard the doctors filling them in on your condition." Especially when they'd dubbed her a lost cause from the start.

"I hate that side of me."
She flew through the signs in a furious manner.
"I don't want to be weak."

With a scowl, Hunter stepped toward her again. Gently placing his hands on her shoulder, he bent for a kiss. "Listen to me. You aren't weak, Rebecca Lange. Not then, not now, not ever. I don't care how many lines of BS your grandparents or any of those incompetent doctors fed you. You've been through hell and have so much to show for it. It's only natural you'll have moments you can't control." Anger surged through his body. How could people put so much negative emphasis on a young girl who needed nurturing and love? Damn her grandparents! What else was he going to uncover about Becca's feelings?

Something flashed in her eyes, Hunter thought it was fear. Was she afraid of him? Was it because he was so close and raised his voice? How long would she be afraid of his touch?

Fuck, this whole thing was bad.

"Why don't we take a cool bath?" he suggested, wondering if she'd let him join her. "As for the drive to Vermont, we can go later if you want." Taking her that far out of her comfort zone might not be a good idea. Then again, she didn't seem all that comfortable at the house, either.

"I want to get it over with,"
she insisted.

He noticed her balled fists. A nervous habit? He reached out for the bandaged hand, once again prying her fist open. He gently pressed his thumb in the middle of the hand, keeping his gaze on her face. He missed her. He missed the way they were falling in love and having fun, before that stupid woman did what she did. Without answers, he wasn't sure how Becca would handle things. Hell, he wasn't sure how
he'd
handle things.

Hunter was about to open his mouth to say something when Becca abruptly pulled away and darted up the stairs without another glance back. His heart sank. "I can't lose you, Bec. I'm so afraid I am," he whispered to the empty room.

He wasn't sure how they'd get past this storm.

Staring at the last painting she'd been able to complete, the one of them dancing under an umbrella in the sunset, Hunter longed for healing. Heaving a deep sigh, he trudged upstairs and stopped at the closed bathroom door. He leaned his ear against it and placed a hand on the door, as if he could reach Becca from there. What was she doing on the other side of that door? Did she finally let everything out and cry with the bathwater running to hide the fact? He closed his eyes and wished for this gap between them to close, not get wider. Worry grabbed him in a tight squeeze. He almost opened the door to try and talk to her again, but decided against it. Let her have a little peace to calm down. He'd wait until she crawled into bed and he could hold her in his arms.

Hunter finally moved away from the door, set the alarm and turned off the light. He crawled under the covers and listened to the bath water running, feeling the distance between them as if they were worlds apart.

*****

Screams. Cries. Moans. Hunter heard them all. It felt like a scary movie, but this was much more than that gory crap on TV. This was real. This was his life.

Surrounded by water, debris, and the horrid smell of something burning, he let the sounds guide him to find someone. Anyone.

"Dad? Mom?" He sputtered, nearly choking on water. The plane hit the water already, but Hunter still felt the sensation of plummeting. That was no roller coaster-like feeling. This was much worse. He'd seen his parents faces right before they hit the ocean. The screams, he couldn't get them out of his head! "Anybody? Someone talk to me!" If he'd survived, then maybe everyone else had a fighting chance, too!

He wasn't sure if what he heard now was real or if the sounds were just echoing in his mind.

Someone grabbed his arm. Hunter cried out, his heart thudding in unnatural patterns.

"Keep her safe, Hunter. I made a promise," Dad rasped. "I'm sorry I dragged you and your mother along. I was so-" Cough, sputter, "afraid. I thought we'd covered everything."

"Keep who safe, Dad?" He could barely see him through the rain, but Hunter took a little comfort that he was there. "What are you talking about?"

"The little one. I promised ... I need you to keep that promise for me. Even if..."

"Even if what? Dad, talk to me!" Hunter shouted. His father made no sense at all.

Nothing.

"Dad! Dad! No!" Hunter's terrified cry sliced through the sound of the storm. What did he mean? He gripped his father's hand, afraid to let go. "Come on, I'm getting you out of here," he vowed. If only he could find Mom.

How did he get out of here? Water rushed all around him in angry swarms. How close were they to land? If only he'd paid a little more attention to his surroundings rather than sulk behind a game.

"Don't leave me, Dad! I'm sorry!" The plane made another loud sound and it moved. Were the waves pushing it under?

He had to get out of here! But he didn't want to leave anyone behind.

Dad coughed again. "Get to her, Hunter. Go find her and keep her safe for me. Don't worry about me. I need you to-" More coughing. Then his father's grip on him loosened. In a panic, Hunter flailed, trying to find his father's hand again.

"Nooooo!" he screamed, knowing it was no use. Dad was gone. He'd lost him. "Damn it!" With his father's last words in his mind, Hunter forced himself through the wreckage to find the little girl, wondering why his father was so intent on making sure she was safe over anyone else. What did all this mean?

Another scream, a female's, rang out. Lost in the middle of the ocean, Hunter tried to figure out what he could to do save himself, let alone anyone else.

*****

"Becca!" Hunter yelled, bolting upright. Sweat dripped from his body as he slid his hand across the bed to reach for her, only to find the bed was empty. He inhaled sharply, attempting to keep calm and wondered where she was. Did he only pass out for a few minutes, long enough for another agonizing nightmare, or had he been out a while?

He glanced at the clock. Only an hour had passed since he crawled into bed waiting for Becca. He was about to jump out of bed when the door flew open and light filled the room. Becca ran toward him, her eyes full of worry.

"What's wrong?"
She sat at the edge of the bed, taking his sweaty hands in hers.

"Another nightmare. I don't know if I'm remembering stuff, or if these aren't real. Tonight's ... it was bad." He swallowed hard. "This one was right after the plane hit the water. I found my dad, and he told me to find you and keep you safe." Hunter closed his eyes, the events of the nightmare playing fresh in his mind. "Then he died. I lost him." He blinked back a tear. His heart raced still.

With eyes full of fresh tears, Becca flew into his arms, holding him tight. She ran her fingers through his hair. This was the closest he'd felt to her in a while. This was the first nightmare in weeks that she'd been awake to witness.